Lay It Bare
by mad half hour
Summary: Kanda, reluctant Junior Camp Councilor at Black Order Summer Camp, loses a game of poker to one of Cabin Three’s Councilors and has to go skinny dipping. At the lake, he runs into his Co-Councilor, and finally learns why he refuses to go swimming. Yullen


If interested in joining a fan-organized YULLEN WEEK to be held in December, please contact me for questions or take a look at the bottom of my profile.

**A/N-** Well, I finally get to post this! I actually wrote this one-shot for the D.Gray-Gift Exchange on LJ, for someone named animalboything, and had a really great time with it. Honestly, I'm pretty happy with the turnout. But I was really surprised at the lack of Summer Camp AUs in the D.Gray-Man section, so I'm pleased to claim I have added something of this nature.

**Warnings: **Some nudity, hints of unhappy childhood, Kanda's mouth

**Summary**: Kanda, reluctant Junior Camp Councilor at Black Order Summer Camp, loses a game of poker to one of Cabin Three's Councilors and has to go skinny dipping. At the lake, he runs into his Co-Councilor, and finally learns why he refuses to go swimming. Yullen

* * *

Kanda Yu stares at the cards spread out before him, or more accurately, he glowers at them, internally expressing disbelief at his horrendous luck while outwardly cursing it and his smirking opposition. Furiously, he swipes his forearm across the rickety, green table that Black Order Summer Camp provides every cabin. All fifty-two of the standard, one- dollar deck cards flutter off of the edge, and he watches them fall with an ill-will that only human restriction prevents from becoming powerful enough to set the cards aflame.

When two young men around Kanda's age, both the one sitting before him and the other to his side, draped across his wooden, collapsible chair like a child, begin to laugh at him for his 'antics', he flips the table over entirely. He is disgusted when the smack of wood against the wooden floor of Cabin Four is muted largely by the screaming, giggling young girls he has been cruelly assigned to watch over, only mere moments after having stepped over the threshold of hell itself.

"Oi, brats, shut up!" he snaps at them, barely holding back the urge to swear. He really doesn't need Komui reprimanding him for "desecrating the innocence of his young charges and soiling their purity", especially now, with the two idiot Junior Camp Councilors of neighbor Cabin Three laughing at his unfortunate turn of events. It is only a little over a week into his month-and-a-half torment, and already Kanda has begun to feel the urge to burn down their cabin, in spite of any form of punishment it my invoke.

"Ne Yu-chan, just because you can't play poker doesn't mean you should take it out on the kids," Lavi teases him cheerfully, his single green eye (the other-his right to be precise-is covered by an eye patch made of black cloth; whether it is adorned out of necessity or whim is a mystery, though Kanda would bet on the latter) shimmering with mirth gained from Kanda's frustration and imminent embarrassment. God, why did he have to accept Tyki's offer of playing poker? The baka Usagi will never let him live it down, he knows, holding it over him like an anvil, ready to let it drop and crush him at a moment's notice.

Several of the girls giggle at the nickname the stupid Usagi gave him when the red-head had stolen Lenalee's clipboard and realized that "Kanda" is actually his last name. The morons. It isn't _that_ funny, especially considering how much Lavi's reused it. At any rate, he doubts the airheads will still be laughing when the rabbit loses his head via the firewood axe left conveniently wedged in the middle of a tree stump only feet away from the left side of Cabin Four.

A small dash of good karma? Kanda would like to think so.

"Che," Kanda scoffs, rising to his feet and pulling his loosened ponytail tighter, restricting a few stray strands of ink-black hair close to escaping. The high ponytail gives his narrow features and serious countenance a strict, no nonsense appearance. "If I think my idiot charges are being too loud, I'll tell them to shut up before I shove something down their throats to make them. Some of us Councilors do our job, Usagi, and you're enough of a headache as it is."

_Others_, Kanda leaves unsaid, _leave their kids inside of their cabin to fend for themselves while they go to play Poker with other Camp Councilors…_

"No need to be such a sore loser, Kanda," Tyki, Lavi's Co-Councilor, drawls amusedly from his place directly across him. His position gives Kanda the perfect angle to view the obvious pleasure on Tyki's face, pleasure gained from Kanda's predicament. If his wolfish smirk is any indication, much of said pleasure is probably derived from the fact that it was Tyki himself that got the frigid, normally apathetic Kanda so worked up.

In the artificial lights of Cabin Four, the man's normally hazel eyes seem to gleam golden, impressing upon Kanda the image of a demon given human shape. Tyki's dark hair (wavy, wet (he supposes Tyki and Lavi must have brought their cabin swimming not too long before they headed over in this direction), and for the moment let down as opposed to being slicked back) and tanned skin tone only further the image. "You'll upset such delicate young ladies if you keep yelling and throwing things around, and Allen isn't here to placate them right now, is he?"

"Stop with your god damned smirking, cheat," Kanda snaps, irked by the man's false gentlemanly attitude greatly. Kanda hates fakes more than almost anything else (though he admittedly hates quite a lot, more than he can quickly list), and Tyki is probably seconded in his mask by only one person, which brings him to, "And I don't need the baka Moyashi to handle my idiot cabin members!"

"No need to be so vicious," Tyki responds smoothly, shuffling the deck he must have collected sometime prior with the sleight-of-hand seen only in professional gamblers and card dealers. "I'm merely concerned that all of your swearing will upset one of them."

"And Allen's the one who handles them when they're crying, right Yu-chan?" Lavi adds while picking up the toppled collapsible table. It squeaks metallically in protest as he straightens its bent legs (he has to kick them several times before they stay in place), and groans when the Usagi applies pressure to test its holding capacity.

Kanda takes that brief lapse in conversation to resist the urge to tell the idiot Usagi that he is in charge of a cabin of manipulative, ten to twelve year old girls. It is at this age that the topic of boys first begins to develop in most young females, when crushes and boy-craziness first shoots up in their heads, faster and more widespread than a dandelion infestation. Bred off of false fantasies of their own creation, girls of this age think of handsome older boys as everything. Many of them worship attractive boy band members religiously, as if members to some twisted cult, dedicating a ridiculous portion of their brains to the memorization of said men's birthdays, astrological signs, favorite colors, and a plethora of other useless trivia.

All of them are incredibly, astoundingly duplicitous in nature, which was brought to the surface when the young girls discovered their fortune at having landed the only female cabin that has to be supervised by two male Junior Camp Councilors (something about having more male councilors than female, but whatever the case, it just helps to showcase Kanda's string of misfortune). Apparently, both Kanda and the baka Moyashi had been classified as attractive to them (why a scrawny boy with a hair color Kanda last saw on his now-deceased, ancient grandfather like the Moyashi is appealing to them is a mystery he doubts he'll ever solve), and as such the girls demand constant attention from them, and have taken to talking about them and asking stupid, pointless (not to mention embarrassingly personal) questions.

Kanda knows for a fact half the time they begin to cry the girl 'in pain' is really just faking it to gain a few minutes of the Moyashi's attention, something that has yet to cease pissing him off. Something about their less-than-totally-innocent mindset when clinging to the Moyashi rubs him the wrong way. Maybe it has something to do with the baka Moyashi's naivety; he's the only fifteen year-old boy Kanda's ever met that could probably be taken advantage of by a twelve year-old girl.

Why is Kanda _always_ stuck with the morons?

Kanda rouses from his thoughts abruptly when Lavi slings an arm over his shoulders, a wicked smile stretching the planes of his face that speaks of double-dealing intent. Forcefully, Kanda removes that arm from himself, thrusting it back with a force that would make some believe he attempted to fulfill his previous threat of severing a limb from the Usagi's body to nail to Cabin Four's doorway as a warning to intruders.

Lavi stumbles back from the force and into one of the six bunk beds (the wooden kind that all Summer Camps seem to buy from the same, obscure place), where he proceeds to smack the back of his head into the wooden safety beam screwed into the upper-bunk so children won't fall off. The loud, painful-sounding thunk makes Kanda's impassive expression twist into a dark smirk. It widens into what some will constitute a smile at the pained yelp that succeeds the action.

"I told you not to touch me, baka Usagi!"

"You don't need to be so rude about it," Lavi gripes, straightening his hunched back and rubbing his head gingerly with the tips of his fingers, checking for excessive injury or blood. The man's green eyes wince significantly at the contact, but the removal of his fingers shows no signs of red.

"Che, you deserved it," Kanda grumbles in return, a little miffed at the lack of blood (the baka Usagi could afford to lose a little blood, if that's what it'll take to teach him some respect), but refraining from saying anything else to his fellow Camp Councilor for fear of some ridiculously half-baked 'revenge' scheme. As much as the thought of maiming the Usagi pleases him, he is aware that a third of the cabin would turn him in for murder (like Tyki, for example, in retaliation for becoming the only councilor among a cabin of twelve seven and eight year old boys, or the small number of girls that have been uninfluenced by Kanda's long black hair and high cheek bones). He also does not wish to be lectured or get any maple syrup dumped over him while sleeping, thanks.

"As amusing as it is to watch the two of you fight," Tyki interjects fluidly when it seems as though Lavi is about to retort, "I believe you still owe me something, Kanda. We did have an agreement, after all." The smile stretching across the Portuguese man's face shows all of his teeth, much like the deadly grin of a shark, but what else can one expect from a card shark?

If Kanda had been any less of a man, or if he did not happen to have so much control over his body and its reactions, the color may have dropped from his face, or perhaps steadily increased to a bright red. But Kanda is nothing if not stoic, his pride refusing to allow such simple and embarrassing reactions, and so he shows no outward signs of embarrassment beyond a small twitch of his hands.

"Oh, that's right!" Lavi cajoles delightedly, having temporarily forgotten about his head injury in favor of watching Kanda's humiliation unfold. His previous scowl has somehow managed, in a matter of seconds, to convert itself into that of a grin almost as wicked as Tyki's. "You should get goin', Yu-chan! By now the Head Councilors will be on the other side of the camp. You wouldn't wanna go too late and get caught, would you?"

Kanda' eyes narrow and he can feel a rush of blood attempt to flood his face, forcing him to fight it back furiously. He _won't_, under any circumstances, let someone like the Usagi see him blush, let alone cause him to.

"What about the kids?" Kanda inquires, more to stall for a little time before he takes a blow to his pride than out of actual care or concern for the girls. They could burn the cabin down while he is away, and he wouldn't even bat a lid at the news afterward, though he may get angry at the fact that his belongings went with them and the cabin. "The baka Moyashi isn't here to watch them while I'm gone."

Speaking of which, where is the moron? It has to have been over an hour since he left the cabin 'to get some fresh air' as he said, and to 'take a walk'. Either he is purposefully ditching so that Kanda will have to watch the demon spawns on his own (if that's the case, Kanda will be sure to throttle the Moyashi once he gets back), or he has gotten himself hopelessly lost. Kanda would normally hope for the latter (which is most likely the true cause for his absence, taking into account the Moyashi is far too kind to abandon Kanda, no matter how much he may dislike him), but knows that if the Moyashi never returns, he'll be stuck by himself with twelve disgustingly boy-crazy girls and no one to vent his frustrations on via arguing.

"We'll bring our cabin over here so the boys can have a little get together with the girls," Tyki offers pseudo-kindly, with a look in his sharp eyes that suggests he knows exactly what Kanda is trying to do. No doubt he also knows that Kanda has too much pride in himself to ever avoid breaking an oath, no matter how socially-repercussive the results.

Growling under his breath, Kanda stalks out of the cabin, slamming the screen door shut with more force than necessary, needing to let out some of his annoyance one way or another. He purposefully ignores Lavi's parting shouts of, "Have fun!" and "With luck maybe you'll find Moyashi-chan at the same time!" knowing he needs no more incentive to kill the Usagi, and that any more of his derisive comments will push him over the edge of 'Pretty Damn Pissed' straight into 'Homicidal, Lethally-Dangerous Rage'.

The sun by now has set, leaving the grounds dark and heavily shadowed for Kanda's trek to the nearby lake to satisfy the bet he had made with Tyki before the game of Poker began. While in most cases the black night would be a bad thing, making it difficult to traverse the woody path without stumbling and possibly causing one's self injury, in this situation it serves as a cover, shielding Kanda from anyone that may have normally spotted him. Curfew may not be set so strictly upon the Councilors, but the fact remains that Kanda is technically leaving his cabin completely unattended, Lavi and Tyki with them or not. Plus, he really doesn't want to be seen doing what he's about to do.

The moon offers Kanda enough light to get through the rough dirt path and to the Black Order's small lake without much difficulty. He can tell he's gotten close when the air grows slightly chillier than when he had been going through the wooded path, and the quiet lapping of water on the muddy shore reaches his ears. At night, the lake looks almost black, the waters fluid and smooth, reflecting the starry sky like a mirror. It ripples calmly, fragmenting the image, and the multiplied stars look like punctures of pure light breaking through manifested darkness.

With a resigned sort of determination setting his features stony, the man begins to divest himself of his shirt, shrugging out of the black tee a few feet from the lake, behind a thick patch of bushes. He unbuckles his belt and undoes the button and zipper to his dark wash jeans, and the pants fall without ceremony, pulled down by the weight of his belt. His shoes are quick to follow, socks stuffed inside of them. Left in only his boxers, Kanda takes a moment to recall just what he had been coerced into doing.

Tyki and Lavi had entered his Cabin not moments after Allen had left 'to take a walk,' animatedly discussing something between themselves. Kanda was in a worse mood than usual, having just finished cleaning up the mess the girls had made of their cabin wall (what had possessed them to _paint_ the wall of his and the Moyashi's room full of swirling, richly feminine artwork Kanda still has no clue), and had not been made any happier upon seeing them. It would make sense then that Kanda had demanded they leave, immediately.

They refused, deciding that dealing with a furious Kanda was well worth the entertainment of provoking him. It had been just after Lavi had nearly convinced Kanda's wards to try and rebel and do Kanda's hair that Tyki had interjected, stopping Kanda's oncoming assault in the nick of time.

He offered a game of poker instead. The stakes were simple. If Kanda won the game, he and Lavi would return to their cabin post haste, and wouldn't darken the doorstep of Cabin Four for two weeks (nearly half of the Summer Camp's remaining time). Contrariwise, if Tyki won, Kanda would have to go down to the lake, skinny dip, and would not be allowed to return for a half-hour after leaving the cabin, during which time either Lavi or Tyki would retrieve him (and therefore, see that he had kept his side of the bargain). Kanda had foolishly accepted the terms, eager to get Lavi and Tyki as far away from him as humanly possible.

And he lost, terribly (though in his defense, Tyki seemed suspiciously lucky, so much so that Kanda has been convinced he was cheating the entire game).Which brings him back to the present, standing only yards away from the lake in nothing but his boxers, rocks digging into his bare feet and mosquitoes mercilessly drawing in his blood.

Kanda allows himself a moment to steel his pride before yanking down his boxers, leaving him stark naked to the tranquil night. Hoping that some deity above will show him mercy and keep others away, the disgruntled Councilor resolutely begins to make his way through the bushes and to the water.

As if to spite him before he even begins his task, a sudden splash alerts Kanda to another presence, already in the lake and heading in his direction. Sucking in a harsh breath and made instantly aware of his state of undress, Kanda ducks back into the bushes. He chooses not to recognize the act-not to mention the simple hiding spot- for its juvenility. Instead, he peers through the gaps of the shrubs branches and needles, trying to catch a glimpse of the swimmer through the darkness, ignoring the horrible grating against him in all the wrong places.

At first, Kanda cannot seem to make out anyone within the waters of the lake, but the sound of water being pushed by arms and legs continues, and soon enough a figure begins to emerge from the shadows, coming from the lake's opposite side. Obviously, they had been making laps across the water.

Kanda squints in an attempt to make out the person's face, veiled by the shadows and too far to be completely recognizable. But slowly, as the slim figure takes distance from between them, Kanda is surprised to see a shock of white hair and pale skin illuminated by the moonlight, slender arms and legs slicing through the fragile surface of the lake.

Kanda frowns at the discovery. The Moyashi left him with all the vicious girls to go _swimming_? He's going to have to wring the boy's friggin' neck when he gets out of there! Just a few days ago he had claimed to hate swimming, and had refused to get in the water with Kanda and the Cabin members, opting to keep his long-sleeve shirt and gloves on despite the summer heat. By the end of the day he had been steps away from heat stroke, but nonetheless had not wavered in his resolution to remain out of the water. That day had been quite the loss for those of Cabin Four, who Kanda knew would have wanted to see the boy without one of his long-sleeved shirts. Yet here he is, swimming, at ten-thirty something at night, ditching cabin duties and most definitely not lost. He should have expected it from the liar…

Kanda clicks his tongue exasperatedly, sharp, dark eyes narrowing as the lithe Councilor continues to move forward. Part of Kanda is vastly irritated with the boy, impatient for him to leave so he can get into the water already (because if Lavi or Tyki discovers him completely dry when his half-hour runs out, who knows what they'll make him do instead as a penalty). Another part, however, is surprisingly content to simply stay crouched, watching the shadows recede slowly from the Moyashi. Kanda can see him much more clearly now, gliding across the water like an apparition, skin a vivid, burning alabaster against the ebony waters flowing around the surprisingly defined body. While wet, the Moyashi's cropped hair, clinging to his face, nose length bangs curling around his eyes like spectacles, appears saturated silver as opposed to its normal, glossy ivory. Without the cuffs and gloves covering them, his wrists appear extremely thin and delicate and-

Unconsciously, Kanda moves forward to get a better look at the boy's left arm, squinting as if the apparent disfigurement is merely a trick of the night. From this distance, Kanda cannot be sure just what color the skin of the Moyashi's left arm is, but whatever the pigmentation, it contrasts heavily with his pale skin, and looks raw and painful. Suddenly, the boy's insistence of wearing long-sleeved shirts and gloves in at least eighty-degree weather is made drastically obvious to Kanda's eyes. On a similar tangent, the Moyashi refuses to swim with the rest of his Cabin not because he doesn't like to swim, but rather because he probably doesn't want to be looked at strangely.

Kanda's fists clench tightly, unconsciously offended. Did the Moyashi really consider him to be so superficial? Strange arm or not, the Moyashi is already an odd-ball in his eyes, and no disfigurement would change Kanda's opinion of him.

Briefly the black-hair man considers slipping into the water and confronting the boy, clothes or no. The Moyashi would probably spazz at his fellow Councilor's nakedness, though, and would no doubt alert the Activity Councilors (who patrol the grounds at night for people breaking curfew-like them-and the rules-like them), something Kanda really doesn't need right now. So instead he sits back on his haunches, waiting quietly for the boy to turn around for another lap (or leave the lake, whichever happens first) so he can sneak in.

It is only a few minutes later when Kanda carefully disentangles himself from the bushes and stealthily makes his way to the lake's muddy shore (the dock, while much drier, would have made too much noise beneath his feet, and hovers several feet above the water, which would have made his entrance very loud). He represses a noise of disgust at the squishing sensation beneath his feet and between his toes, and wades out quickly into the inky blackness of the lake.

Being quiet when moving through water is virtually impossible, and try as Kanda might, every shift into deeper waters causes liquid swishes and plips. Ahead of him, he can already see that the Moyashi is stopping, alerted to his presence due to the cacophony of small noises. Not wanting to be caught naked he stops all attempts at being subtle and lunges forward, diving briefly under the surface and skimming the lake's bottom before breaking back through. The already cold air around him seems even chillier now, clinging to his bare torso like the antithesis to a blanket, stealing his warmth rather than dispensing it. He reaches behind him to wring out water from his hair by force of habit.

The Moyashi snaps into alertness, whipping around in the water, a loud, startled gasp leaving his cupid-bow pink lips. His grey eyes are nearly circular as they gaze back at Kanda's own, the image of Artemis caught bathing by Actaeon just before her fury. His thin chest rises and falls to a fast-pace rhythm, and Kanda thinks back to summer days when his parents were still alive; he would try to catch rabbits with his bare hands, and their little chests would flutter beneath his palms, up, down, up, down, frantic for breath that their panic-crushed lungs couldn't take in. His mother had gently reprimanded him and taken his catch away, told him in the stern voice that only a mother could accomplish-undoubtedly warm and loving, but as strong and rigid as steel-that startling them like that could make their heart burst from the fright.

At the time, a young Kanda had just barely stopped himself from laughing at the warning. Surely his mother had been joking. The idea that any animal (small or large or exotic though they may be) could die because they were startled seemed preposterous to his adolescent, artless mind. But looking upon the Moyashi now, breathing hard and heavy and definitely not healthy, he begins to put some stock into her words on the matter. Too much longer drawing in breath like that and the Moyashi will end up passing out.

A moment of silence passes between the two of them; during which time the younger's cheeks (still slightly rounded with youth yet to be shed) flush a light pink. Seconds extend to minutes, tension falls slowly into relaxation, and pink drains to a horrified white. A terrific shout pierces the rare, flimsy quiet held between the two of them, and life rushes to the scene with a burst of energy.

"W-what the hell are you doing here, Kanda!" the Moyashi exclaims, flailing his arms and splashing water about like a child throwing a tantrum in the bathtub. It gives Kanda a good view of the disfigured arm, and he takes in the sight with curious eyes, not bothering to reply.

The Moyashi's left arm is a deep red, the flesh looking rather rough in texture, a map of raised flesh riddled with long trenches, almost like a series of inverted veins. His nails are a dead-looking black, and what appears to be a cross is embedded deeply into the back of it. Kanda cannot help the brief flash of sympathetic pain that strikes him; whatever had happened to cause such a devastating mar must have been pure agony.

The arm disappears under the surface of the lake with a heavy splash, and the Moyashi is obviously fighting a battle with his instincts by staying where he is, treading water. His eyes dart repeatedly to the shore, and back to Kanda, nervous eyes that have seen a fair share of rejection, most probably centered around the same thing.

"Che, I don't give a damn about your arm, baka Moyashi, so stop looking at me like I'm going to try to exorcise you or something," Kanda tells him flatly and straight out, not bothering to wait for the boy to say something. "Do I look like I would care about something so stupid?"

The Moyashi looks genuinely startled by the answer, and Kanda wonders to himself what made the boy think he gives a damn about appearances. It's his Co-Councilor's retarded personality that bothers him, not his old-man hair or any other disfigurement.

"You're the same stupid Moyashi to me," Kanda adds gruffly when he notices the softening of Allen's gray eyes. No sense in giving the guy false hopes of Kanda somehow becoming nicer to him. That would be unnecessarily cruel.

Almost immediately, the pearl-gray eyes harden, tempered by indignant flames. The pale cheeks flush with color again, deep pink with either embarrassment or shame at having thought gentle thoughts about _Kanda_ of all people. Really, what was the idiot thinking? Still, the rush of blood gives the boy's usually unhealthily pale skin a fleshy, living tone that makes him look more human, less ethereal.

"At least I'm not socially retarded like you, BaKanda!" he snaps angrily in return, right hand slapping the water's surface.

"Che, be quiet, baka Moyashi," Kanda says, rolling his eyes at the juvenile display of anger. "And stop throwing a fit. You're acting like a toddler, and if you shout any louder the Activity Councilors will hear us. Do you wanna get caught?"

"No, but-!" he begins, voice dropped imperceptibly, forcing Kanda to cover his mouth with a hand quickly. Kanda glares at the younger boy fiercely, daring him with a sharp look to try yelling again.

The Moyashi swats his hand away, aggravated, but his next words are significantly quieter, bringing a smug smirk to Kanda's thin lips. "_No_, of course I don't want to get caught!" the Moyashi hisses. "But maybe if you wouldn't purposefully get me angry-"

"Don't try to blame your stupidity on me, Moyashi," Kanda growls, angered by his childish accusations. He grabs the boy's shoulders, dragging him closer, so he can glare directly into his gray eyes. Those orbs widen at the closed proximity, and the boy struggles to get away from Kanda, splashing wildly. The skin of his arms is wet, making it difficult for Kanda to maintain a good grip on him.

"Stop it, I told you that your arm doesn't bother me!" Kanda whispers fiercely, impatiently assuming that the boy's main source of discomfort is, not the physical contact (after all, Kanda's grabbed him by the arms and shoulders and manhandled him many a time previously), but rather the fact that Kanda is physically touching his disfigured shoulder. "Now shut up and stop it; you're being too loud again."

"I don't _care_, BaKanda. Now let _go_ of me!" When Kanda does not respond in any manner other than to tighten his grip defiantly, the boy thrashes all the harder, growling like an angered kitten. "You're such a bastard! Let go!"

"No way, Moyashi." Kanda smirks at the protesting boy struggling to get away from his grip, coldly amused at his angry expression. For some reason, he really likes seeing his Co-Councilor's face, hot and bothered, eyes bright with fierce determination, but even more than that, he likes seeing such a face right before the boy submits to him. "But maybe I'll let you go if you beg."

Allen pulls a face at his words, looking both disgusted and horrified by the prospect of being held so close to Kanda until he gives up his pride. He stops all of his movement, going slack in the Japanese man's grip, as if the thought drained all his fight away. "You really are an ass, Kanda," the boy tells him in all seriousness, facial expression decidedly flat.

"So I've been told." Kanda shrugs, still smirking, and not the least bit bothered by the other's words. As if he didn't know that already. "Did you expect me to have some sort of sappy epiphany if you told me, and I'd let you go? Or do you just like to waste your breath?"

"Shut up." Allen shifts in Kanda's hands, looking awkward and uncomfortable…and unbearably determined to sit through it all. His lips are pulled down into a small frown, which, frankly, looks more like a pout than anything pertaining to actual anger. It makes Kanda want to win this battle of wills all the more.

"Give up already, Moyashi?" Kanda inquires wickedly when, after several minutes have passed by, his Co-Councilor has yet to move an inch. He raises an eyebrow cruelly, skeptically, when Allen only smiles, innocence painted the color of roses, glossy on his lips.

The sudden fist coming toward his face startles Kanda more than he likes to admit, and he barely manages to get out of the way before being struck. He drops Allen in his surprise, and the boy reenters the water up to his neck, treading water insanely to keep afloat. Water laps at his chin as Kanda struggles to right himself while looking poised and in control, as if he hadn't just sailed feet and into the water, as if he hadn't let his guard down and the Moyashi hadn't nearly taken him by surprise. Allen spurts as a small wave catches him in his panting, parted lips, coughing out water and looking slightly nauseas.

Kanda wishes he would just drown in the friggin lake already.

"You little-!" Kanda lunges at the Moyashi, throwing a good portion of his body weight into the assault. He just barely misses as the boy kicks away from him, feeling his leg brush against the smooth, sleek skin of his Co-Councilor's hip as he kicks out. "Get the fuck over here so I can strangle your scrawny neck."

"Like I'd do something that stupid, Bakanda." Allen backs further into the lake slowly, eyes watching Kanda calculatingly as the man prowls around him in tighter and tighter circles. He bobs in the sloshing water like a cork. "Besides, didn't you listen to Lenalee's speech before the kids got here? 'We solve our problems through talking, not violence,' right?"

"Che, screw talking. We won't need mediation if you're dead."

The Moyashi snorts at this, now stopped in the center of the lake, treading water and making figure-eight ripples with his hands and feet. "Why'd you even come here?" he asks, and for a moment Kanda believes he's trying to distract him. But something about Allen's face attests a genuine curiosity that even Kanda can't ignore. "I mean, no offense, but you really don't seem to like kids, and you're sorta…not very, well…good with them…?"

"I got into a fight on the last day of school," Kanda tells him with surprisingly little reluctance. He seems utterly nonchalant at the admittance of being at a Summer Camp full of kids for less-than-friendly reasons as well. "It was either this or two weeks of detention starting my first day back. I would have chosen the detention, but my old man would have forced some stupid 'family bonding time' on me once he found out. I figured this would be better than a month-long road trip with him…at least until I met you."

"Hey!" Allen protests angrily, annoyed flush back on his cheeks, bangs plastered to his face giving his eyes a strangely narrower appearance. "Without me you wouldn't even be able to handle Cabin Four!"

"Not having to deal with your stupidity would be well-worth getting eaten alive by hormonal twelve year-olds," Kanda interjects, his voice a bizarre hybrid between cold and almost teasing.

"God, why do you hate me so much!" Obviously, whatever less-than-hostile tones in Kanda's words were lost to him during reception. "I never did _anything_ to you, but the second I walk into our cabin you start getting postal on me for no reason!"

Kanda does not deny the boy's words, merely tossing him an inquisitive look at his hurt tone of voice. He receives no reply from Allen, who appears to be looking anywhere but at him after his outburst. Barely perceptively, Kanda frowns. Why _does_ he find it so necessary to get on Allen's nerves?

Granted, Kanda is an ass to just about everyone he meets. Being social has never been a part of his personality, and rudeness and cold retorts seem to be second-nature. Sardonic or otherwise cutting remarks, violence, and bursts of anger come to him easily. Conversely, interacting with other people and speaking (virtually about anything other than expressing his annoyance, whether it be personal thoughts and feelings to simple, pleasant conversation, to 'public' classroom speeches and presentations) do not. Described simply, Kanda is not an amiable person.

But something about the Moyashi makes this malicious quality in him flare. Something in the round, innocent quality of his rainy-gray eyes makes Kanda want to cause them to storm, wants to light a fire behind them and see that innocence burn to ashes. Something in his smile (spun from sugar and dipped in honey, disgustingly sweet) makes him want to shatter its delicateness, replace it with the boy's most determined snarl. Something about his gentlemanliness, his charisma and kindness, makes Kanda want to tear the façade down and leave nothing but Allen, purely Allen, his quintessence and nothing else.

Because something about that Allen, the Allen with red cheeks and gem-bright eyes, the Allen with a more cynical outlook, with cruel words on his tongue and dripping like venom from his lips, makes Kanda feel level with him. Martyr Allen, the kind, loving Allen who seems to do no wrong, is always so above him, so disgustingly pure that it makes Kanda want to steal it all away and hang the boy with it, because no human can stay so good for so long. Sometimes just looking at _that_ Allen makes him feel so-

"_Kanda!_" the Moyashi hisses next to his ear, blowing hot breath over across the curve of his wet, chilled cheek, making it tingle pleasantly. A hand is on his shoulder, shaking him lightly, and without thinking, he swats it, lashing out at the Moyashi (so freaking close!) and pushing him away.

"What was _that_ for?" Allen demands once he manages to straighten himself, indignant and flustered and more than slightly annoyed with the Japanese man.

"You were touching me," he replies simply, sending the boy a dark look that to his eternal chagrin does not affect the Moyashi in the slightest. Not for the first time, Kanda wonders if he's just too stupid to notice the threat.

"I was _trying_ to get your attention!" The boy runs a hand through his hair, exasperated and shooting an almost nasty look Kanda's direction. "I thought I might have heard something." He seems vaguely anxious at the thought.

Kanda can't help taunting him when he makes thing so easy. "Only children get frightened by strange noises, Moyashi."

"I wasn't _frightened_!" he is quick to protest, arms in the air gesturing widely. "What I meant was that I thought I heard people talking, you prick! I don't know about you, but I don't wanna get cau-!"

"Then shut up, Moyashi," Kanda growls, cupped hand pressed against velvet-soft lips to silence the loud boy beneath him. His eyes are narrowed in concentration, slowly scanning the perimeter, trying to look beyond the heavily crowded bushes and trees. As the Moyashi had said just seconds before, voices travel along the wind down the east path to the lake, coupled with snapping twigs and the rhythmic swishing of pant legs brushing against leaves and other shrubbery.

Allen tugs Kanda's hand away from his mouth and gasps greedily for air, giving him a frigid look. Opps. Kanda honestly hadn't been aware he was blocking off his nose too. "H-how many times am I going to have to tell you to let go of me? You could have killed me!"

"Maybe if you would _shut the hell up_ I wouldn't have to suffocate you to keep you quiet," Kanda growls, letting the boy think what he wants. There's no use in trying to convince him it really had been an accident; the Moyashi wouldn't believe him, and Kanda would just be wasting his breath. "Now unless you want to die, close your friggin mouth; I think the Activity Councilors are on their way down. If we can keep quiet," extra emphasis on the 'keep quiet' here, because Lord knows the Moyashi obviously needs the help, "they probably won't notice us."

Allen grumbles something quietly to himself, too quietly for Kanda to make out, but complies to the man's wishes afterwards, falling silent. Kanda smirks to himself in silent victory even as the sound of footsteps grows steadily louder. It is not much later that they can hear voices drifting just around the bend in the path, leading up to the lake's wooden dock.

"Have I ever told you that you look lovely under the moonlight, Klaud?" the unmistakable, tantalizing voice of Activity Councilor Cross (in charge of archery) inquires huskily in the semi-darkness.

There comes a soft, almost tired sigh from the same general direction, and the Moyashi mutters something briefly behind Kanda that sounds vaguely like 'poor woman'. Kanda grudgingly agrees with the boy. No woman deserves the hounding of Cross, who is notorious for his womanizing and wild behavior. But if anyone can handle the man, it would be Activity Councilor Klaud Nine (in charge of field/sport activities).

"You may have said it once or twice before, Marian," comes her reply, alto voice carrying a certain sternness beneath its smooth quality, like steel wrapped in silk. "And I think it would do you good to keep your hands off of me."

Two bright beams of light cut through the darkness, thin and concentrated. They begin to sweep the area in front of the man and woman, who move past the corner with confident, steady strides. Despite the casualness of their conversation, their eyes are sharp and detecting, even where the beams of their flashlights can't reach. The shadows cast by the two of them are larger-than-life.

"Beautiful women like you shouldn't look so serious," Cross complains, even as he removes his hand from her lower back.

"But aren't we doing something serious right now?" she doesn't-really-question, and Kanda can imagine the twisted smile she must be giving the other patrol.

"Screw looking for any stray kids," Cross gripes, swatting at something in the air with his free hand (most likely bugs attracted by his flashlight). "If the idiots go wandering off and get lost, it's the fault of the Councilors in charge of their Cabin, and their own."

Before Klaud can respond one of the flashlights shines in the Cabin Four Councilors' general direction, encroaching quickly upon them. Kanda curses his hindsight, realizing they should have headed further back into the water.

"Damn it," Kanda hisses quietly, and before the Moyashi can do something stupid in his panic or protest, he grabs the boy by both wrists. "Take a deep breath, baka Moyashi, and don't try to come up until I let go of you, got it?"

Allen looks at him, alarmed. "Wha-?"

Kanda jerks the boy down beneath the lake before he can finish, trying to make their entry as smooth and ripple-free as possible. Immediately, they are almost entirely shrouded in darkness as Kanda drags the two of them deeper, the surface shimmering a tantalizing aqua, bursts of starlight puncturing the black like fresh snowflakes on asphalt.

Allen comes to life in a wild fit of motion, thrashing desperately against his grip, and Kanda swears at him mentally in as many languages he can think of as he fixes a firm grip upon the Moyashi's thin waist. The cold presses down upon them like something living, grasping more and more tightly the farther they delve, rattling along their skin like the raspy breath of winter. Kanda doesn't stop until he can feel the slimy, muddy bottom of the lake beneath his half-frozen feet. Pressure builds on the sides of his head like individual weights.

To ignore the frozen feeling settling into his bones while his lungs begin to set fire to his blood Kanda focuses on the wriggling boy held firmly between his hands. Cast in shades of blue under the water, Allen's face looks to be a shadowed aqua, tinged a green that, together with his desperate eyes, makes him look vaguely ill. The water between them makes his skin feel awkwardly slick as he unintentionally rubs his body against Kanda's in his bid for freedom, a body that is surprisingly strong…and as embarrassingly bare as his own. Luckily, any warm blood is chilled by the frigid waters around them.

Time seems infinitely slower on the unorthodox side of the lake, minutes put on pause, sand falling down the glass as if gravity has been reversed. Everything under the water is warped, comes to the point where nothing is decipherable anymore. Kanda can hardly feel his body, sensation a phantom of warmer moments, let alone tell if the Moyashi is still in his grasp or if he has broken free. Direction is nonexistent, left becoming right, east morphing forever into west, up twisting into diagonal spirals going nowhere, and everything leading into the dark. All that remains is the faint outline of the surface, a distant twinkle of light fragmented in the water, shards of starlit glass breaking through the bleak ink swallowing their existence whole.

Slowly, even most of that light fades away, and for several hazy seconds Kanda cannot recall why this is a good thing. Then he realizes the Moyashi is no longer struggling, can see his hair drifting above him like the metaphorical silver lining spun into strands of hair, and everything comes back into his brain, one bullet shot straight through his skull. Kanda pushes with all his might against the ground beneath his soles, and shatters the glass surface of the lake.

ooo

Allen coughs up water and Kanda breathes deep and greedy. Allen shivers in Kanda's arms as Kanda's muscles twitch at the feeling of the mercurial, now-warm air against his cold skin. Allen's lips are blue and Kanda' hands are nearly white against the chalkboard- black water.

Still coughing lightly, Allen pushes weakly against Kanda's hands, which are tense and frozen around his bare waist, palms like ice against his stomach. They release him with the reluctance of an icicle that must be broken to let go of what it grasps, individual fingers moving at different moments, cracking one by one until Allen slips free. He does not dip beneath the water to get away.

Allen shivers at the glare Kanda gives him. His eyes are dark under the shadow of his wet bangs, but arctic blue when struck with the light of the moon. Allen hadn't known they had been blue, has always, always thought that they were black. They seem colder now than he's ever seen them, but for some reason the mere fact that Allen knows the color of Kanda's eyes solidifies something between them more completely. It makes Allen realize he knows absolutely nothing about this man in front of him, glaring and fiery in his anger. The flames melt the ice, make something inside of Allen so passionately warm, but God does it burn.

"What the hell was that?" Kanda asks him, voice demanding and velvet black. His lips are somewhere between periwinkle and violet, but they do not quiver with his cold. Kanda's body remains steady, strong and calm, mocking Allen's shaky, quivering form. Allen doesn't even feel cold, feels almost nothing, but he just can't seem to stop his shivering.

"What wuh-was what, Buh-Buh-BaKanda?" His voice shakes, and he hates himself for it.

"You're already stupid enough, Moyashi, so stop playing dumb," he growls, and Allen's face seems to catch fire it's so hot with the shame of being caught, the indignity of being called stupid, of being mocked by the infuriatingly gorgeous, _naked_ man. Kanda moves forward, and desperately, Allen tries to shift back, but his limbs are jerky, immovably numb. He rocks like a toy boat in a child's bathtub, and it's all he can do to stay above the surface, to keep treading water. "Why did you freak out when I brought you under the water?"

Allen shakes his head when Kanda grabs him, strong, masculine hands wrapping firmly around his arms, one smooth, one hideously rough. He towers over Allen's diminutive form like something from a bad dream, all shadows over his face and fire in his eyes, hands so frigid they threaten to freeze the blood in his veins so thoroughly he'll sink to the lake's bottom and never get back up. Kanda jolts him forward, and water sloshes around them, kicks up and into the air, sparkling and bright, before falling back down like a shooting star, extinguished by the darkness. Allen can't stop shaking and he hates it.

"Answer me, Moyashi." His voice is a solitary rope and Allen clings to it, because he's so lost in those hot, burning eyes, caught in an oven, baking and burning and blistering and raw under all the layers of thick ice.

"It wuh-was nothing," Allen stutters, tongue thick and eyes wide. He can't blink, can't seem to move his facial muscles at all, stuck in some eternal, frightened cycle. He looks past the arctic waters of Kanda's eyes to something dark and hideous and horrid, and like a train wreck or a pile up, it's just so terrible he can't look away. He trembles beneath hands his own will never compare to, beneath a grip that turns him to unfeeling stone. "We were both nuh-naked," so awkward, so shamefully wrong but it's nothing, _nothing_ compared to what lays just beneath the depths of Kanda's liquid-blue eyes, "and I was just embarrassed. Wuh-why were you-"

"Don't lie, Moyashi."

"I-I'm not!" he squeaks, and he feels like a child again, so small under that big stare with so many facets his head would spin if he tried to count or understand them all. The faucet roars to life all around him, wets the tips of his hair, turning it the color of dirty snow as the drain clicks closed and the sink becomes an ocean. He quakes and shivers and his breath hitches because he's so frightened by the hands on his arms, usually so gentle and kind turned wicked by one phone call.

"Then get under the water." Kanda's fire traps them in a blazing ring, and he chokes on the smoke, tries so hard to draw in breath only for his lungs to sting as if poked by red-hot needles. Those horrid, awful hands creep slowly to his shoulders, freezing the path from his throat to his lungs solid and tight.

"Kuh-Kanda," he begs, even as someone in Allen's head pleads, "Mana, Mana!" as another voice cries, "Brother!" so heartbreakingly loud, and through it all an off-settingly gentle voice warns, "Take a deep breath." He tries to back away, knowing he's heading into deeper water, but he doesn't care; he can handle deeper water because he knows perfectly well how to swim. What he can't handle are those big hands and those narrow, sharp eyes, the water rushing from the faucet and the counter cutting into his stomach as he holds him there…

"Moyashi?" Kanda looks at him with a strange expression on his face, a face that almost looks concerned, and Allen finds it so deliriously funny that part of him wants to sob and he doesn't know why.

"Don't make me," Allen murmurs, and he wishes with all of his being that Kanda will listen, even as those large, callous hands dig into his shoulders, thumbs rubbing the skin of his neck so awkward and jerky and rough but soothing all the same. Somehow, he finds it in himself to breath.

"Why?"

"I…I can't tell you," he says, and he's afraid because he can feel those eyes on him again, eyes that he loved so very much, eyes that look at him like he isn't even Allen anymore. He wants to tell him his name, but whenever he tries one of those big hands moves faster than a blur and then he's on the floor and his cheek is so cold it burns all the way to his teeth. The title 'Brother' echoes an unending tune inside his skull, etched so deeply in his brain nothing will ever erase it.

"Moyashi…" Kanda seems torn but Allen almost doesn't care because if one thing is okay it's his voice, the word Moyashi like a fleece blanket thrown over his shoulders because it's _his_ and no one else's. But then the hands grip in a way that holds him still, not too tight but strongly enough that he'll never be able to get away.

"Take a deep breath."

Then Allen's head is pushed under the surface, water roaring around his head, flowing into his ears, his nose, water that he can't control as the faucet pounds against his head, harsh and strong like the hand keeping his head down, holding him under so he can't escape, so he'll never be able to breath again, and the voice with a billion different emotions was telling him to come back, except not Allen but his brother, Mana's brother, and all he can think is that the water is so cold and his lungs are so blisteringly hot and he is gonna die and be cold forever, just like Mana's brother, and Mana will be all alone and he is terrible, so mean because he hates being alone and Mana doesn't deserve it, and maybe if he just breathes in, if he lets the water fill up his lungs it'll be okay because it's cold and his lungs are on fire –

But even that doesn't work because it's air that's filling his lungs now, not water, and the hands on his shoulders aren't Mana's, they're Kanda's, the new one with the blue eyes and the soft face. He's hauling him out of the water, and Allen doesn't know why, just like he doesn't know why he's crying, why he's screaming against something steady and solid when he knows that new-Mana will just get even more angry at him, first his Brother and now this…

And the world snaps so quickly back into focus that Allen loses his balance and has to be steadied by Kanda's hands, not Mana's. Calluses rub roughly against the wet, bare skin of his waist, and the world turns with a relieved sigh and slowly, Allen begins to calm his breathing. The tears flow in trickles down his frigid cheeks like liquid heat until finally, they too stop.

"Can you hear me, Moyashi?" Kanda's voice is like a shadow of itself, almost a whisper and free of any edge. It's strange, and nice in some ways, but Allen can't find it in himself to like it much.

"Yeah," he murmurs, because he can and Kanda deserves to know that he's alright, even if Kanda would probably say that he doesn't really care. Allen knows that even though he'd never say it out loud, part of Kanda really, truly does. "I can." His voice is raw and throaty, and he winces.

"…Are you okay?" Kanda asks, slow and hesitant and decidedly nonchalant, and Allen has to grin just a little against the man's shoulder because it's so like Kanda to ask something of this nature like that.

"I…" Allen almost says 'I'm not,' but catches himself, because for the first time since having experienced an episode like this he can feel his heart, calm and steady in his chest, and realizes he's not too bad. "I'm fine."

Kanda grunts in response and disengages the two of them slowly. Allen braces himself against the cold on his lower back, which reminds him of his lack of clothes…and Kanda's. Blood rushes warm and heavy to his cheeks, staining them pink. Kanda smirks and looks him over, and Allen's face feels even hotter.

"I never took you as the type to swim naked, Moyashi," Kanda drawls, thin eyebrow raised questioningly. He walks out of the water with a cool confidence Allen finds himself jealous of. He begins to head towards the bushes not far off from the shore.

"It's _soothing_," Allen retorts without any real bite, almost grinning at the comfortable return to their typical antics because he wouldn't be able to handle it if Kanda started to treat him differently. But he should have expected this from Kanda, because even though he's certainly not sociable, some part of Allen has always recognized that the man quietly understands, even if he himself does not realize it. The only thing that keeps his smile away is the fact that it would ruin the atmosphere. After he begins to regain strength in his legs, he follows Kanda up the small slope leading to the bushes, and goes a little further left.

He doesn't bother to tell his Co-Councilor that he's been skinny dipping in the lake every night since he's gotten here.

The bushes shift loudly as Allen and Kanda rummage through them for their clothes. Allen grimaces as he finds his more tangled within the roots than he had thought he left them, but lets his annoyance go so he can get them out more swiftly.

"Why'd _you_ go skinny dipping, Kanda?" Allen asks as he pulls his boxers on, back turned toward Kanda's direction so he doesn't have to look at his broad, bare chest, and the strangely alluring tattoo on his left pectoral.

"A bet," he supplies simply just before what sounds like a small scuffle between him and some branches ensues. Fabric flaps through the air as he begins to wave his clothes to get the pine needles out.

"Tyki and Lavi?" the younger asks even though he already knows the answer, smirking in amusement into the fabric of his shirt as he pulls it over his head. Allen straightens it with a tug before bending over to grab his shorts, making a face at the mud staining one of the legs.

"Yeah."

Allen laughs at the annoyance in Kanda's voice, almost tripping over himself as he pulls on his shorts and shoes. He does up his zipper, button and belt quickly and turns around to find Kanda waiting for him under the light of the nearest lamp on the trail back to the cabins. His ponytail is stringy from being wet and haphazardous, pieces loose and brushing against his equally black tee-shirt. He looks at Allen with obvious impatience.

"Move your slow ass, Moyashi, our cabin's waiting." He begins walking ahead when Allen's a few paces behind, purposefully taking long strides so that Allen has to walk quickly to keep up.

"Speaking of our cabin," Allen begins slowly, having just thought of what both Kanda and he being away from it would mean, "who's watching them right now? Don't tell me you left them all alone! Komui would go ballistic on us."

"Shut up, would you? You're giving me a headache." As if to prove his words as true, Kanda rubs the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. A droplet of water slides slowly down his temple to hover at the corner of his lips. He licks it away quickly, a flash of his pink tongue that disappears just as fast as it appeared. "I left them with Tyki and the Usagi; they deserve it after causing me to go through all this. My head's killing me because of all your screaming."

Allen stops at the words, feeling just the slightest bit uncomfortable at having his actions recognized. Somehow or another, it seems to add weight between them, and his lips open, unsure of just what he should say to banish it. "Kanda…"

Kanda snorts, a sound that's crossed between irritation and a distant sort of amusement. He stops, and looks back at Allen with stern eyes, blue eyes that reflect immeasurable oceans. They seem to tell him 'not now, idiot; if you think you're ready to tell me anything you're as stupid as I say you are'. "Do you have memory problems too, Moyashi? I thought I told you to 'shut up'."

He turns around without another word, and begins to walk forward, going down a familiar dirt hill a few meters before the final turn to their cabin. "Now let's hurry up. Who knows how long it'll be before Klaud and the stupid Pervert come back around."

Allen shakes his head in amusement, following down the hill at a steady, controlled jog so as to not let momentum cause him to run into Kanda' back. He doubts he'll be so kind about it.

"I should let the girls do your hair and put make-up on you for dunking me under like that, Kanda," Allen tells him teasingly when he catches up, outside of the door to Cabin Four. He tries to convey a 'Thank You' in his eyes and between his words, somehow. Rapturous yelling can be heard even with both the wooden and screen doors closed, and they begin to strengthen themselves for the anticipated mess.

"Che, I'd have to kill you for that, Moyashi." Kanda pushes him roughly, but not as cruelly as he used to, with less of a malicious intent behind the action. Allen wonders, as he follows Kanda's barking voice into their Cabin, if it's his way of saying, 'You're Welcome".

He dodges the scattering boys of Cabin Three as they retreat back to their own cabin, Lavi and Tyki hot on their heels with Kanda in wild pursuit, and chuckles at the sound of a heated argument beginning. Allen hears several doors squeaking open, most likely other Councilors coming to find out what's going on, and closes the door before Komui rushes to the scene.

Still laughing, he begins to get the girls ready for bed.

* * *

The End

A/N- Man, I had to go through the entire fic again to get rid of the LJ tags…ugh. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did writing it.


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